rs on that steep, rocky cliff beside the sea," he
said. "The stones were sharp and the winds were wearying, but at last
I finished the dress just as I planned.

"I am glad that you are pleased. I am very tired now, and must sit
still and rest."

So delighted was the owl that for a moment she had forgotten the
whalebone boots. Now as she looked at the raven she saw that in
scratching about for the feathers he had broken one of his pink toes.

With a little cry of pity she flew to the grasses where the boots were
hidden. Quickly she snatched them up and flew back to the poor tired
raven.

"Here," she cried, "here!--I thought of you while you were away. Now
you shall put your tired feet into these strong whale-bone boots. The
stones and the ice cannot hurt you again."

"Oh, oh!" croaked the raven. "They are the very things for which I
have been longing!"

"Put them on! Put them on!" cried the owl. "See how they will rest
you! They will make you feel quite young again!"

The raven slipped his tired feet into the whalebone boots. Straight
away the old tired ache left him. He hopped gaily about and croaked
cheerfully.

"How graceful!" he said. "How perfectly they fit! How comfortable."

"Now I shall make a coat for you," said the owl. "It shall be pure
white. The feathers shall be the shiniest and the loveliest that I can
find!"

By and bye the raven's white coat was ready to be fitted.

"Come," commanded the owl. "Come and stand still while I fit your
coat."

The raven came, but so delighted was he with the whalebone boots that
he could not stand still. As the owl worked over him he kept hopping
and dancing about.

"Stand still!" cried the owl. "I can do nothing with you hopping about
so. I shall stick the pin-feathers into you!"

For an instant the raven stood still, looking down at the boots. Then
he jumped so suddenly that the owl dropped a whole clawful of the soft
white feathers with which she was finishing the neck.

Then the owl grew very angry.

"Stand still!" she hooted. "If you jump another time I will throw the
oil from the lamp on you!"'

Now the lamp was filled with whale-oil. In it wicks of moss and
twisted grass had been burned. With time and many wicks the oil had
become as black as soot.

The raven looked at the black, sooty oil and then at his new white
coat. He really stood still for as much as two minutes.

Just as the owl was trying to decide whether or